Matt Hilton - Slash and burn

'He advertises. I called him. Simple as that.'

'Please don't lie to me, Kate.' Huffman cupped the razor in his palm again. He went behind her and laid the hand on her shoulder. The steel was like a sliver of ice against her flesh. Kate tried not to shiver, but he could feel the tension in her body. 'You knew him before this.'

'No. I've just met him.'

'Where?'

'New York.'

Huffman teased a lock of Kate's hair with his fingers.

'If he's from New York, what were you doing in Florida?' Kate slowly moved her head so that her hair was pulled from between his fingertips. 'I've checked. You flew from Tampa to Little Fork. Before that you flew from New York alone. He's not from New York, Kate, he's from Florida, isn't he?'

'He met me in Florida. He had other business there.'

Huffman clucked his tongue. 'Why are you protecting him, Kate? If he's just some P.I. you hired, why all the lies?' He plucked at the lock of hair again. 'Are you lovers?'

'No.' She wrenched her head aside. Huffman followed with his hand, and this time he gripped her hair tighter. 'I told you, I just met him,' Kate said.

'You seem angry. Is it because I'm touching you, or could I have hit a raw nerve?'

'We're not lovers,' Kate spat out. 'Why would you think that?'

'Oh, just the impression I got when I spoke to him on the phone.'

'You spoke to him?' Kate's voice was barely above a whisper. 'What did he say?'

Huffman smiled. Kate was a police officer. She'd been trained to deal with difficult situations like this. Ordinarily he'd struggle to get anything from a cop, which was why he was appealing more to her private side. He felt a tremor flood through her. He knew that there was much more to Joe Hunter than she was admitting to.

'He wants you back. Doesn't that strike you as strange… seeing as you just met?'

'I'm paying him to find my sister. I'm his meal ticket. Of course he wants me back.'

'Oh, there's more to it than that, Kate. It's obvious that Hunter cares for you. I think that you care for him as well. Therefore I believe you know much more about him than you're telling.'

Kate shook her head, but the movement was too rehearsed.

'I've told you-'

'That you only just met?' Huffman dropped his hand to her shoulder again. He allowed the flat of his razor to trace the line of her collarbone. 'Yes, you did tell me that. But sometimes people can't deny the attraction. Call me an old romantic, Kate: I believe in love at first sight.'

Kate didn't answer. Huffman allowed his blade to drift lower so it rested on the swell of her breasts. Turning the razor ever so slightly it snicked through a strap on her bra. The bra slipped, displaying the dark edge of an areola. Kate immediately moved to cover herself, but Huffman tapped her fingers with the blunt side of the blade. He turned to the two guards. They were hard-faced men, not the best of lookers. He'd picked them as Kate's jailers for that very reason.

'Guys,' he said, 'How long have you known the lovely Kate?'

'Couple of hours, boss.'

'Do you think she's beautiful?'

'I'd fuck her,' said one. The other guffawed and added his feelings on the subject.

Huffman returned his attention to Kate. He walked round her slowly. 'Do you see how quickly attractions can be built? Now, I know my friend, Rourke, over there was perhaps a little uncouth, but he illustrates my point.'

'He's a pig! And so are you.'

'Yes. But let's not dwell on it. Tell me about Joe Hunter.'

Kate closed her eyes.

'He's just a guy.'

Huffman placed the razor blade against her jaw. 'If I sliced off your face, would he still want you back?'

The cold steel dug a furrow in her flesh, but Kate tried not to flinch. A single bead of blood welled out. 'He wouldn't get paid. I'm sure that would piss him off.'

Huffman finally walked away from her and she tugged her bra back into place.

'Very noble, Kate,' he said. 'Protecting your man.'

'He's not my man.'

'OK, we seem to have established that. So we'll move on to the next question. Where's Imogen?'

'I don't know.'

From across the room he looked at her again. He folded his hands, and stood like he was contemplating her words. 'That's the first time you haven't lied to me, Kate. It looks like we could be getting somewhere, after all.'

Kate turned her face to the floor, refusing to look at him. Blood trickled from the shallow nick in her jaw, pooling in the hollow of her throat.

Huffman nodded at Rourke. 'What you said a moment ago: if you feel the urge, just make sure she's still breathing afterwards.'

Kate's eyes snapped open.

Huffman shrugged.

'If Hunter's not your man, then you're fair game.'

He turned his back and left the room, closing the door behind him as Kate shouted in denial. Rourke was a pig, but he would help break down the woman until she'd tell him everything. Later he'd return and if she still wasn't forthcoming, maybe he'd reintroduce her to the sharp edge of his razor.

He was one floor up in a short vestibule that led into a large living space. He passed through both and out on to a veranda, where he leaned his elbows on the veranda rail, and looked out at his surroundings: not downtown Dallas, but flat grassland. In the distance was a line of trees that marked the perimeter fence to the ranch. The trees were almost a mile away. Anyone approaching would have to traverse the open space first. He would see Joe Hunter coming.

With Imogen Ballard or without.

He relished the idea of meeting Hunter man to man.

Even if such a distraction was probably counter-productive to his business interests, he was looking forward to taking on a man who'd proven so resourceful up until now. His life as a businessman had taken away the freedom he'd enjoyed when he was the Felitta brothers' enforcer. Back then he could sate his need for violence whenever he desired. But, since he'd swapped his blade for a business portfolio, life had been a little boring. The challenge that Hunter presented made him feel alive.

His eyes skated towards the furthest outbuilding on his property. When this place had been a working ranch the building had been in regular use. Back then, beef had been the ranch's main product. More recently, the cuts of meat coming out of that building weren't deemed appropriate to the market and had been scattered on the plains instead. Hunter wouldn't be the first person he'd turned into chopped liver.

At Capital City Airport, Frankfort, Larry Bolan had to leave his guns behind. It angered him, but he had no valid reason for carrying the weapons on to an airplane. He didn't have the papers. He hired a strongbox at a nearby storage facility, intending to collect them on his return. Then he took his connecting flight to Dallas Fort Worth, to pick up the trail of the man he would kill. The Magnum would be a miss, but it wasn't an insurmountable problem. He intended killing Joe Hunter with his hands.

Still, he needed a gun.

There were others he might have to kill. Things with them weren't personal, and he didn't mind putting a couple of rounds through them if it helped speed up the process.

He caught a cab from the airport.

'Take me to the nearest roadhouse.'

'You looking for girls?' The driver was a little fat man with a pink face and nicotine-stained fingers. He watched Larry in the rearview mirror.

'Yeah, that's the kind of place I want,' Larry told him. 'Hot, dancing girls.'

'I know just the place.'

Twenty minutes later Larry handed the driver a ten-dollar tip.

He stepped out of the cab and looked across the parking lot at Minnie's. It was the kind of place that came alive at night. Garish neon signs in the shape of voluptuous women would gyrate and entice the punters. There was a rip-off of the Disney character mouse striking a pose, blowing a suggestive kiss over her shoulder, her skirt lifted to show her bare ass. The other signs were the conventional type you saw at places just like this: XXX in bright red; Girls, Girls, Girls in blue. The country music would be loud. The lot would be full of trucks and jeeps and noisy, drunk men. But right now, Minnie's was quiet. There were only two vehicles in the lot, an old Pontiac and a classic model Cadillac. The Cadillac was coffee-coloured, like the one in that old Chuck Berry song. The paint had faded in the Texas sun. Somehow, a latte-coloured Cadillac didn't have the same ring to it.